Reid wanted to play “baby” one weekend morning recently and, for once, I got to be the baby. I don’t understand why Reid wants to be the baby in a game since she is the baby in real life but usually she chooses that role. When she is the “mama”, though, I see how she sees me or maybe how she thinks I should be.
I tried to convince Reid to join me in the big bed for a cuddle with Daddy. Reid said that she couldn’t; she had things to fix in “my” bedroom. “Daddy was supposed to do it. But he didn’t do it.” Her tone was resigned, final. Ken offered a rude comment that Reid couldn’t here. It’s nice not to be the parent in the spotlight, especially when the light isn’t particularly flattering.
At one point, Reid declared that I needed a haircut. When I said that I was afraid, Reid quickly reassured me that she would be right there with me. (That’s the sort of thing I’d say.) Then, she added, “I’ll cut it myself.” (NOT something I’d say.) I told Ken that the latter bit of information made me more afraid and Reid, hearing the comment, reassured me that Daddy would be there, too. I tried another tack and asked my “mama” if she thought I was pretty. “You’re pretty at the front,” Mama-Reid said. “But you’re not pretty from the front. You need the back of your hair cut.” The latter was said in a firm voice, brooking no argument. (I like to think that I would never tell Reid that she wasn’t pretty, other than that her actions aren’t pretty.) Being a wiley Baby-Mama, I distracted Mama-Reid from the haircut with breakfast. I did say that we don’t ever *really* cut hair but I’m not sure if she was ever intending to try.